


Socha

by Alch



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Torture, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alch/pseuds/Alch
Summary: Robert's breathing is labored, short and irregular. It is not a good sign, really not. The werewolf drags himself to the closest wall with less energy than what he thought he had and breathes out reluctantly when his back can finally rest against that solid surface. Then, he lets his body slide down until he hits the ground.He doesn't want to rest. He must not rest: he knows they don't have time, that the extremists will be on their back again soon enough. But he also knows that if he doesn't catch his breath and stop the bleeding he won't be able to make a single step forward, let alone protect them from another attack. Or protect Seph.





	1. The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tentacledicks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentacledicks/gifts).

> Socha: English (new) - the hidden vulnerability of others; the illusion of others’ invulnerability arising from their distance from ourselves.

Robert's breathing is labored, short and irregular. It is not a good sign, really not. The werewolf drags himself to the closest wall with less energy than what he thought he had and breathes out reluctantly when his back can finally rest against that solid surface. Then, he lets his body slide down until he hits the ground.

He doesn't want to rest. He must not rest: he knows they don't have time, that the extremists will be on their backs again soon enough. But he also knows that if he doesn't catch his breath and stop the bleeding he won't be able to make a single step forward, let alone protect them from another attack. Or protect Seph.

In the darkness of the small hallway where they are hiding, Robert can now hear his accelerated breathing and turns a little Seph to see him, the eyes cutting through the night with no effort: is he hurt? Maybe, during their escape, some bullets hit him and Robert, busy as he was trying to keep them alive, didn't notice it… He has to check, make sure that Seph is alright. Outliving that disaster will mean nothing if the boy dies in front of him. 

«Oi, let me take a look. Are you hurt?» Robert calls him, his voice a bit harsh because of the pain in his side giving him waves of nausea. «Oi, _ vampire _, I'm talking to you! Do you hear me?!»

The vampire is startled by the werewolf's voice. Robert notices that and mutters a curse to himself: Seph must be in shock — yelling at him won't make him more cooperative, no matter how much Robert wants to kick something because of the shitty situation they are in.

Robert breathes again, trying to stay calm and to stand up. As he moves closer to Seph with a few clumsy steps, he asks himself why on Earth he ended up being a bodyguard for the son of Ambassador Johnsen. 

_ «There has to be some other way to live, Rob. We can't keep going on like this. We can't… We can't...» _

Robert shivers remembering that voice. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth, stopping a pained moan from getting out: he can't lie to himself and say that it's because of the wooden bullets in his side — what he's feeling right now is a completely different kind of pain. And it's worse. With an effort he's ashamed of, finally, Robert reaches Seph's side. His hand touching the vampire's shoulder makes Seph tremble again and when his light eyes meet the werewolf's dark ones, Robert immediately recognizes a heavy veil of terror that makes them shine wrong.

_ They look like Judith's eyes. Like my mother's eyes. _

Living creatures look so damn alike when they are afraid to die. 

«Calm down now, they are not following us anymore,» Robert says — Seph doesn't seem to hear him though: he stares at him, he keeps staring with no change in his look and Robert feels like he's looking at an empty shell, with no more life in it. Suddenly the fear of not being able to bring Seph to safety with him makes the werewolf shiver. 

_ Shit. With these wounds, I can't carry him on my shoulders. if he doesn't follow me… _

«Seph, please...»

His voice acts weird, so much that Robert finds it difficult to recognize it: suddenly there is a kindness in it that the werewolf has never used with Seph before, that belongs to another life. Robert immediately regrets it: his blood loss his weakening him, making difficult to keep his emotions in check. The memories can’t seem to leave him alone…

Robert feels tired as he's never been: it feels like forever since the evening at the palace, before the werewolf extremists broke in and tried to kill the vampire Ambassador son on an official visit. It feels like forever since the dinner and the old-style ball that made Robert turn his nose up, even more when the werewolf Ambassador's wife asked Seph to dance with her and Robert had to do the same and picked a partner so that he could keep surveilling the vampire closely.

Again — who had the brilliant idea of signing up for the coexisting interracial program ending up being a bodyguard for the most important diplomatic family of the vampire race? It was his idea, of course. 

Under the guise of kneeling before Seph to get his attention and being as little intimidating as possible, Robert bends over one knee to catch his breath and find a more comfortable position, keeping a hand over his bleeding side even if doing so is not very effective. 

«Seph, I have a plan but I can't take you to safety if you keep acting like a statue and don't listen to me. I understand that you're technically _ dead _, but… could you… like… cooperate?» 

Irony is the only thing Robert can use to get out of that situation, even if it's a really stupid way to do it.

For a few seconds, the vampire's dead silence is still the only answer to the werewolf request. Robert reminds himself that it's okay, that he has to be patient because Seph is nobility, after all: he has always lived in the high level of the Capital, among with others of the same lineage. He has never lived a _ hunt _, nor the battles between vampires and werewolves or the wars that happened between the two races with increasing frequency until the year before. Seph doesn't know the suffering, the fear, the feeling of being trapped, on the verge of death: everything is new to him and now he's like a scared puppy the first time he realizes he's the prey. Robert thinks that it's like having to deal with an eight-year-old version of himself, a scared child who just saw his house burned down and his family shattered forever. 

He has to be patient, he has to be patient. Even if they are about to die, stuck in the worst hunt ever, wounded and with only a chance to save themselves. 

«Listen,» he tries again, his strength closer and closer to its limits. «I've already been through something like this — it's not my first hunt nor the first time I see a battle. You have lived in the safety of your palace all your life, I had to fight to survive day by day. So, please, believe me when I say we still have a chance to make it. But you have to do what I say: snap out of it, get up and come with me at the train station. We will take an express to Mirhil and once we’re in vampire territory, the werewolf extremists won't be able to follow so easily.»

Robert doesn't know what it is that makes the trick, but somehow his words fire up a feeble light in Seph's eyes. Now the boy is looking at him, finally his eyes are actually seeing Robert's pale face. The werewolf can't help but feel relieved. 

«They… they can't be… all… dead, Robert,» Seph murmurs — his voice trembles and so do his hands when they grab onto the werewolf as he collapses to the ground in front of him. «Someone must have escaped as we did… The Mixed Guard Corps, the vampire delegation, your friends, the werewolves guests at the court… We can't be the only ones… Robert...»

_ I don't know, damn it. I don't know! _Robert wants to yell, but he stays silent. Giving the vampire false hopes would be cruel, telling him they could actually be the only ones who made it out of that hell alive could be even worse. They can't know the answer for sure anyway and maybe that's what makes Robert furious: he was there with Seph, he was trying to save their asses while the others were dying in front of him and he couldn't do anything to help them. Of course, someone died! Seph surely has lost someone dear to him…

But now Robert doesn't have the luxury of thinking about that, he can't stop and mourn the people he knew or hope that the ones still alive will find them: he has to take the damn boy to his reign's Capital, make sure he's safe so that the peace they tried to build in the last months will still be possible. That's all that matters now. 

«You won't die. Not if you stay with me and do as I say. Get up, Seph.»

It's not really an order, but Robert's attitude still manages to be firm enough for his words to have a hold on Seph. They get up at the same time, the werewolf choking a pained moan and finding something to use to cover his wounds, stopping the bleeding for now; Seph just looking at him, without saying a word. When Robert is finally ready to go, the vampire takes his hand, needy. 

Robert holds it tight and starts running.

☽☽☽

_ «Promise me you two will stick together no matter what. You're stronger if you're together. Promise me, Rob.» _

_ And Robert promises it. One, ten, even a hundred times if it could make his mother’s fate change. But when a new hunt happens there are too many vampires and just two of them, too young, too inexperienced even though they've been running for years. _

_ He believes splitting is the best thing to do. He believes that, having to choose, the vampires will follow him, the male, because he's stronger and he could start a new pack even if he's still too young. _

_ But he's wrong. And he's suddenly alone. They didn't follow him. _

_ Judith… _

The first thing he feels is the stabbing pain to his side. It seems to be burning him from the inside and rips a pained cry out of Robert before he can stop it.

«I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but if I don't take out these bullets the wounds could get infected and then we'll be in trouble. I mean, _ more trouble _.»

Seph's voice comes to the werewolf's ears too loud and annoying — Robert would like to wave it away with his arm as if it was something material he could cast away. But his body is so heavy, it seems like it became one with the soft surface he's lying on and Robert can't move it, not even an inch. The frustration for that weakness makes him barely able to hold a growl. 

When he can finally focus on what surrounds him, Robert realizes he doesn't know where he is. The nausea doesn't help him, and neither does the dizziness that makes everything around him wave. Robert takes a deep breath, trying to calm down and recall the last things that happened but after a few seconds he has to face the fact that he can't remember anything after the attack at the palace and the escape. 

«Where are we?» he asks, staring at the young vampire still working on his wounds, hurting him more than Robert's pride is willing to admit. 

«We were able to catch the last night express as you wanted,» he hears him saying — Seph isn't looking at him and when he moves away he takes something from the seat in front of Robert. Now that the werewolf knows they are on a train what he's looking at makes more sense — it's easy to understand that he's lying down on two seats, the legs partly swinging out of them, in the wagon's hallway, with a grey rooftop trembling on their heads. At least it's not his dizziness that is making everything shake. 

«How long have we been moving?» 

Robert would like to get up, see if there's a lot of people around them, if they are actually safe, but just the idea of sitting up with three holes in his side makes him nauseous: he has to rely on the information Seph can give him and keep asking questions. 

«About an hour. I didn't want to wake you up, but your wounds worried me...»

For the first time since Robert is awake, Seph makes eye-contact with him and the werewolf can immediately read deep guilt in his eyes and a concern he wasn't expecting. Usually, he is the one worrying: Seph spends his time talking about the new astronomy book he's just finished reading or the new scientific discoveries his vampire-bookworm guild has just made. Seph doesn't worry about trivial things like life and death, he doesn't get dirty with blood, he doesn't worry about him. That has always been Robert's job. 

«Do you know what you're doing?» Robert asks — it's not that he doesn't trust the vampire, he realizes that the second he asked the question. Robert just wants to distract him somehow, banish that dark gaze from Seph light eyes. He doesn't know why, but it's _ mandatory _. 

Seph nods. He comes closer again, still with a darkened face but with new conviction, too. In his hands a knife and a bottle of some kind of light, almost transparent liquid. 

«When you woke up I was about to cut the second wound to take the bullet out.»

Without further ado, the vampire pours a bit of alcohol on the thin blade and takes it to the second hole so that it does its job, cutting the skin and what is underneath, deep enough to allow him to reach the bullet easily. 

«It'll hurt,» Seph warns him, just a second before putting his slender fingers into the wound, now large enough for him to move them and reach the sharp piece of wood. There's a lot of blood, it soils the vampire's pale skin and Seph feels it seeping under his nails as the fingers make their way through Robert's side, but it doesn't distract him — it's werewolf's blood, it smells so bad and it's so venomous that not even the most hungry vampire would think about drinking it. And it's Robert's blood anyway… Maybe what surprises him the most is the warmth of that body — he's touching something alive from the inside and even if that thought shouldn't bother him this much, being _ literally _inside someone's body makes him shiver. 

Robert is not ready: the pain is shooting, agonizing, it takes his breath away as a growl makes its way out of his mouth filling the silence in the wagon. Not being able to restrain himself, Robert arches his back and feels his fangs growing in his mouth enough so that they cut his lips. He would like to say that the experiences made during the years he spent running from the hunts, and being wounded by them, made him used to all sorts of pain, but actually he has learned that every wound, every pain, is different and feels new, like it’s the first time being hurt, and this time is no different. 

«Stop! If you move it'll be worse,» Seph tries to calm him down, but Robert has no control over his body's spasms forcing the vampire to penetrate deeper to catch the bullet. 

«Ssh, it's okay, it's over, I'm done,» he reassures the werewolf when he can finally pull out the piece of wood, and he immediately covers the wound with a piece of fabric, kind donation of the personnel on board, together with the alcohol bottle. Seph's tone of voice is so high now that makes him sound like a child, even younger than what his aspect usually suggests. «I'm sorry, the bullets are so deep in your body that it's really difficult to pull them out and I've got nothing but my hands to do it,» he keeps saying, like it could make the difference for Robert. 

The werewolf doesn't answer. His breath is heavy as he tries to recover from the pain he’s just felt. He pushes down the instinct to turn on his good side, curling up in a defensive position. He thinks he must have become a pitiful thing to see, more so because he's twenty-eight now, but the pain is making him lose his mind, destroying logic and pride and reminding him of old wounds, tortures far worse than this one. 

«Are you… f-finished-?» Robert asks with a broken voice.

«There's still one.»

Even like that, Robert can clearly feel the sorrow in Seph's voice. He takes another deep breath, trying to relax his body, lying down again with is back over the seats' leather and remaining still. 

_ It's alright _ , he says to himself, _ everything is fine, it's Seph, just Seph trying to save your ass. Man up, for fuck's sake. You're his damn bodyguard! _

«Be quick,» Robert orders — that ways he feels like he still has some kind of control over what is happening to him. 

Seph is fast, surgical, and that's good, it helps Robert distinguish what he's facing now from the old memories. The blade cuts his skin again, deeper than before because of course this specific bullet went even deeper into his body and Seph needs more space to move his fingers and reach it. 

«I thought werewolves could handle pain well,» Seph can't stop himself from commenting and if Robert had more strength he would laugh at that fucking cliché. Werewolves suffer just like anyone else and die just like anyone else, maybe even more than vampires.

«Tell me about that when your fingers aren’t moving around into my belly,» he struggles to talk, out of breath but not willing to let go of that comment that felt like a provocation even if it wasn't. 

Robert hears the vampire murmuring new apologies, but doesn't have time to think about how his voice should have sounded, because Seph finally pulls our the last piece of wood and pours a huge amount of alcohol on the wounds directly from the bottle in order to sterilize them, pressing them with another piece of clean fabric, arranged in some kind of bandage. Seph hopes that would be enough to stop the major bleeding.

Again, the pain is so sharp that it takes the air out of Robert's lungs and in the end the werewolf gives in to the need to curl on his good side, putting his arms over the wounds to cover his weakest spot by instinct; his bloodshot eyes open wide and his otherwise dark-brown irises shine with an alarming shade of red, indicating that his animal nature is trying to take the lead. For a few moments Robert can't see or hear anything, he can only feel the pressure of his blood running furiously through every vein of his body, making him crazy. If he could think right now he would thank the Gods that this is happening in one of the days closest to the new moon, when the influence of the Earth is weak and his animal instinct can be kept easily under control. If a vampire had hurt him during the full moon Robert would have probably already cut their head off. 

Seph takes the seat in front of Robert and looks away from him for a few seconds, almost closing his eyes — he suddenly feels so tired, as if he hasn't fed himself in months. He's barely conscious that he's trembling against the cold leather of the seat and doesn't mind all the blood soaking him, more than he has ever seen since he has never joined a hunt. 

And yet, even if he feels weak, even if he's aware of Robert's red eyes on him, Seph is not scared of the werewolf, not even for a second. 

They remain silent for the next minutes, Robert's breathing as the only thing marking the passing of time. Seph hasn't moved an inch since he finished helping the werewolf; now that Robert is regaining control over his body and mind he can see that the vampire is still trembling a bit. What Robert saw him doing surprised him: Seph has never been like the vampires he’d crossed his path with during his childhood, and yet seeing him acting so steadfastly when faced with his wounds made Robert question for a second if Seph really was as innocent as he appeared. And yet there he is now, shaking like a wet puppy, scared because he's so far away from home. 

«How… how did you know what to do?» 

For some moments Seph doesn't seem to hear the question. When his voice answers it, the vampire's eyes are still closed, his body still motionless and if it weren't for his words someone could have thought he was asleep. Or dead. The blood on his hands is dry now and for Robert that's a really strange thing to watch. It should disgust him: he saw too many vampires stained with blood like this, because during the hunts bathing themselves in werewolf blood is a privilege, a sign of superiority, even if ingesting it would kill them. And yet looking at Seph doesn't make him sick in the stomach, nor anxious and ready to attack or run at the first sign of danger. That's his blood, but seeing it on Seph's skin makes him feel something completely different. Robert is not scared: for the first time, his blood on a vampire reassures him. 

«I read several medical textbooks, you know that,» Seph murmurs. «They have really detailed chapters about how to extract wooden bullets from a vampire to allow them to heal themselves. You are… _ warm _though.»

«Your fingers were moving among my innards and the only thing bothering you is that I am warm? Well, sorry if I'm still _ alive _.»

Unlike the first time, now Robert's voice is clearly sarcastic and manages to get a smile out of Seph's pale lips, as the vampire finally turns his gaze again on him. It's a relief for both of them to finally be able to look at each other, but neither of them can actually say it. Besides, something is upsetting the vampire since Robert's last words. He's not so sure he can call bother what he felt touching Robert's body that way. It wasn't pleasant either, not really. And yet… it was a kind of contact Seph has never experienced before and even if it was with a werewolf neither the smell nor the danger were enough to make Seph let go of the sensation that there could have been _ more _. 

Even if he doesn't need to breathe, Seph takes a deep breath so that he can calm down a bit. His thoughts are speeding up to where he doesn't want them to go. Even less in a dangerous situation like the one they are facing right now.

In the meantime, Robert sits up and, keeping one hand pressed on the clumsy bandage, he can now look around them and see how things are. The wagon is pretty much empty and even if that relieves him somehow, he can’t be entirely reassured since they are still hours away from Mirhil. A quick look out the window tells him that the train still has to take a couple of stops in werewolf territory. 

«Those wounds will leave scars, I'm sorry.»

Seph's thin voice drags Robert's attention on him again. Robert looks at him with a genuine surprise and after some moments his lips crack a smile and the werewolf indulges in a laugh he can barely suffocate.

«They would not be the first ones,» he points out — following Seph's eyes on him, he notices that the vampire must have ripped off his shirt and undershirt to make himself enough space to attend the wounds. Only shreds now remain of these clothes, hanging off his neck and shoulders, and a lot of bare skin is exposed to the chilling air of the night (that's not a problem, though, given the naturally high body temperature of werewolves).

«You fought so many battles,» the vampire whispers again, not being able to hide the curious look now staring at Robert's bare chest — the werewolf doesn't mind: he has never been ashamed of his body or the nudity it could be exposed to. On the contrary, most of the times he feels nudity as a more natural condition than being covered in layers of clothes. However, the scars marking his dark skin with little light signs are a totally different story, one that pains him to remember.

«Something like that,» he answers, not ready to get into details. Robert didn't fight the interracial wars, too busy surviving the day, finding a safe place to spend the night, taking care of Judith and their mother. The interracial wars came to him, into his life, and destroyed it. Until he met the Ambassador. Now he has no desire to come back to what he was before — he has to make it through this, for himself and Seph.

«This will be over soon, you'll see. My father, the Peace Committee, they will push through the Peace Pact and this will be over.»

Seph has always been an idealist, Robert knows that. He saw it the first day they met, in the Ambassador's big Palace, when Seph run towards the werewolf volunteers for the Mixed Guard Corps that had just arrived. Seph stopped right in front of them, greeting them with a deep bow, and then he shook hands with each of them. His eyes sparkled full of hope and his dead chest was going up and down, breathing for no other reason but his overflowing emotions. At that moment, Robert realized that Seph was like Judith, that maybe he still had a chance to redeem himself, that he could make it.

Still owning Seph an answer, Robert nods slowly. _ I really hope you're right, boy. I really do. _

To be fair, when Robert was born Seph probably already had that same face, that same delicate, kind features that make him look like an androgynous and somehow ethereal being. The same features with which he's looking at the werewolf right now, without saying a word, without making any particular face, just wanting to be sure that Robert is still awake, that the wounds didn't start bleeding too much again, that the train made it to Mirhil without delay. They make him look no older than twenty, but Robert knows Seph is at least twice as old, that biologically his body has walked the earth for a much longer time. That's how vampires work — they seem slow to him, and Seph doesn't make an exception: that's why it's easy for him to treat Seph according to the age he shows and to forget he's actually the younger one between them. Seph's naive and childish attitude makes everything even easier. 

Robert can't stop himself from meeting the vampire's gaze every few seconds. In truth he's used to be watched by Seph: in the months (ten, almost eleven) he has been his bodyguard, he's got used to his naive curiosity, to his restless need to know more and more. And yet there's something different this time. His physical weakness makes the werewolf feel exposed and Robert can't stop asking himself if he will be able to protect Seph in the case of a new attack.

«Astrea,» Seph murmurs, as the train starts decreasing its speed in order to stop at the next station. A metallic voice announces the same name Seph just said and Robert nods to the new information. 

«Once we leave this city, we'll just have to wait a couple of hours for the train to go through the Border Forest and the next stop will be in the vampire territory. Then we'll relax: the extremists won't dare to follow us there, even more so if the news about the attack already spread.»

Seph nods: he trusts Robert completely and the werewolf knows that too. After all, his choice of fleeing the capital by train was probably the best solution: the express they're on it's a new one, extremely efficient; it was inaugurated not more than three months ago when the action of the Peace Committee became more solid and real. It links the Capitals of the two lands making just a few stops in between, in the most important cities. It cuts through the big forest, a natural border between those lands, and crosses it in less than two hours, a speed no train has ever reached before in such an arduous area. It became the new symbol of how close the two species actually are and of how any barrier could be taken down if they really wanted to.

The minutes Robert and Seph spend in the Astrea station pass in silence, focused on paying attention to any sounds. Usually, there aren't many night travelers, so if no one gets on the train they will be safe. At least for a little while longer. The train finally starts moving again, slowly as if it just woke up after a long sleep and needs a few seconds to understand how to function correctly again; when it does, the vampire breathes, relaxing his tense body and shifting in a more comfortable position on his seat. 

Robert doesn't allow himself to do the same, though, and instead he keeps focusing on sounds and smells even more: if someone is looking for them, they could have gotten on the first wagon of the train or the last one, to check every wagon. Even if he tries to keep his anxiety under control, Robert hears his heartbeat increase its speed more and more every second: he hasn't felt that kind of fear — the hunting kind of fear — for a long time and now he feels like he sank into an old memory, a nightmare he can't shake off. 

«Robert?» Seph calls him, finally realizing how tense the werewolf is.

Robert doesn't answer, too focused on everything around them. He smelled something, a scent somehow familiar but that he isn't able to identify. The werewolf closes his eyes, trying to focus on the only two senses he needs now. Several people got on the train, a few wagons behind theirs — they're moving, now Robert can hear their footsteps getting closer, but he still can't recognize that smell. The ones involved in a hunt have a particular scent. Not just the werewolves’ or the vampires' scent. The ones involved in a hunt smells like the hunt itself: like the fear, the adrenaline, the blood soiling the clothes and the skin, the open, dirty wounds, the pain and the visceral satisfaction of having caught the prey or having been able to flee and survive one day more. It's something trivial and instinctive, a scent that makes both races smell the same. And right now Robert and Seph smell like the hunt. 

That's how Robert smells the extremists. And that's how the extremists find them.

The werewolf gets up quickly, oblivious to the pain in his side, and pulls Seph closer to him, hugging him tight as he has never done before. His long arms and the wide chest can easily cover the slimmer silhouette of the vampire startled by the sudden contact, completely taken by surprise. Robert lets their faces touch, cheek against cheek, and his warm breath brushes against Seph's pale skin, wetting it. In that exact moment, the werewolf realizes that letting him go is the thing that hurts him the most, that if he could he would stay in that embrace forever, and this realization scares him. Robert trembles, putting those chaotic feelings aside, and he steals a few more seconds. 

«R-Robert…?» he hears Seph whisper — after some moments, the vampire hugged him back and now his cold arms surround Robert's large back. 

«It's a good thing my blood is still on your hands. If I leave enough of my werewolf scent on you maybe they won't find you,» he explains — Robert hugged him for that reason, to disguise the vampire's scent with his own, hoping that it will last long enough for him to handle whoever is about to attack them. He didn't think that a gesture like this, simply dictated by necessity, would shake him so much. Just like he's shaken by the jump Seph makes when he realizes that the extremists found them. 

«What do we do?» Robert hears Seph ask and he’s able to let go of him just to look the vampire in the eyes.

«You do as I say: at the end of this wagon there's the toilet — go hide in there. If we are lucky my scent will cover yours enough to make them lose you.»

«What the hell are you talking about? I can't leave you alone! How will you escape from them?» 

Seph's eyes are lightened with a combative look, one that Robert knows too well, actually: it's the same defiant look Seph gives him every time he doesn't agree with a suggestion or a proposition the bodyguard has just made or when Robert says he should spend more time outside, with people in flesh and blood and Seph answers back that everything he needs is in the family library. But now they are in the real world, not in one of Seph's books and the vampire will listen to Robert, whether he likes it or not.

«They want you. I'll tell them that we split, that I'm trying to get back to your father to inform him of what happened and start the search for you. I'll come up with something. But they must not find you or it'll be the end. Do you understand, Seph?» 

The vampire wants to say something. He opens his mouth, the white canines barely visible beyond the pale lips, but nothing comes out of it. Because despite everything he doesn't have any other solution to get out of that situation but to unconditionally entrust himself to Robert's orders. And for the first time, Seph realizes with terrible clarity of mind that one of them or both could actually die. And he's scared, he has never been so scared in his whole life. 

«Promise me you'll do as I say and won't come out until it's safe.»

Seph stares at Robert for some moments not saying anything. He doesn't want to promise a damn thing — he has the distinct feeling that it could be the last thing he would say to the werewolf and he doesn't want to. Losing him would be the worst thing in the world. That sudden realization terrifies him. 

«Promise me, _ Joseph _.»

The vampire jumps: his full name on Robert's lips has an authoritative and desperate sound. Seph can't help but nod and if he had blood still running through his veins now it would flow out of his face.

«Go and stay safe. Everything is going to be alright.»

Robert watches him going to the back of the wagon, his pace quick but clumsy. He has to restrain himself from following him and hiding with him. He knows he has more chances to handle the werewolves that are coming without having Seph next to him. When the vampire turns around to look at him one last time before opening the door between the two wagons, both of them give the other a despaired look, praying to see each other again at least one more time, hoping that it's not a goodbye. 

_ Please, be safe. _

It doesn't take more than a few other minutes before the other door of the wagon opens and the steps of several people fill the silence. Robert is seated in the same place, curled up on himself and against the big window on his left, from where the chilling night wind gives him some kind of relief and tries to disperse Seph's scent. The werewolf doesn't fool himself, not even for a second: he won't be able to escape the extremists, but it's okay, that's part of his act, everything has to be as credible as possible.

«I smell the stink of a wet dog in here,» one of the werewolves sneers — Robert can clearly hear the amusement in that voice and shivers realizing how much the hunt made them look like the vampires that tortured him in the old hunts.

«I smell the stink of a traitor of his kind,» a second werewolf adds, playing the same game and laughing with the first one. 

«I smell the stink of a dead werewolf,» a third one concludes and with a far too agile jump, considering they are almost two weeks away from the full moon, he lands on the seats in front of Robert, making the bottle of alcohol abandoned there fall and break. The stink of that low-quality liquor wetting the moquette fills Robert's nose; he silently thanks the piece of shit in front of him for making it easier for him to cover Seph's scent.

«I smell the stink of a bunch of sons of a bitch,» Robert says, finally looking at the wonderful welcoming committee now in front of him: there are seven of them, he can see four werewolves before him in all their physical strength and other three making their appearance behind them.

«Are you sure you're not talking about yourself or the fucking bloodsucker that keeps you on a short leash?»

At the mention of Seph, a deep growl comes out of Robert's mouth and the werewolf stands up immediately, oblivious again of his wounds. He needs to stay calm, to make his version of the story convincing, but the adrenaline, the sensation of being cornered during a hard-to-win hunt are going to his head making him lose his clarity of mind. 

«Where is _ it _?» the werewolf perched on the train seat asks. «Where did you hide it?»

Robert averts his gaze from him, making the most guilty face he's capable of. 

«I lost him, we split up to run away from you. I don't know where he is,» he says with a low, restrained voice — he shouldn't do that but instinctively holds his breath waiting for the pack's reaction. 

The one still on the seat swoops in on him before Robert can see him. At that moment the werewolf realizes his reflexes became slower because of the wounds and the bloodloss: if it all came to a fight he would die in no time. The extremist grabs Robert by what remains of his shirt's collar, almost choking him, and brings him closer, an inch away from his face. Robert growls at him again.

«Bullshit. You could never part from your little master, otherwise who would suck its cock? Because that's what you do for it, isn't it, you bastard?»

Robert puts his hands on him without realizing it, the nails cutting through the werewolf's skin deeply, made stronger and longer by that instinctive, animal nature that is also making his chest wider. Growls are the only thing coming out of his mouth and they don't stop even when the other werewolf tightens his hold on Robert's throat making it clear he's about to choke him. 

«Richard, let him go.»

Robert can barely hear that voice. The heat of the moment and the adrenaline are still clouding his mind, allowing him to hear nothing but his blood pressure and the growl he's still making against the werewolf in front of him. When the extremist lets him go and he can breathe again, Robert brings a hand to his own throat, his pride the only thing stopping him from coughing. He doesn't know why that werewolf saved him from a quick, certain death, but he keeps his guard high because he knows a low blow is about to come. And even so, what happens is out of any possible forecasts.

«Marcus,» the same werewolf calls — now Robert is almost sure he's the leader, «Marcus come closer, let us see you.»

Robert opens his eyes wide looking at the werewolf coming through the ones in the first line. Marcus. One of his fellows in the mixed guard corps. One of the werewolves attending the dinner that night. One of Robert's comrades. Now standing on their side, among the extremists, his gaze low, his shoulders sunk as he moves a few steps forward, almost as if he wanted to make himself smaller so that no one could see him. 

«...Why?» Robert whispers, incapable of hiding the shock. «It was you? You helped them getting through…?! Why?! I thought we shared the same ideas, that we were on the same side!»

_ I thought we were a family! _

«No, no, Robert you have to believe me, it wasn't me!»

Marcus' voice seems desperate as if he was the real victim of all that story. His small, beardless, scared face barely shows the fact that he's just turned twenty. Robert doesn't know if he feels sorry for him or angry at him. 

«I didn't say anything to them, I've got nothing to do with all of this!» Marcus keeps yelling, stepping forward with more self-confidence, as if it was extremely important for him that Robert believed him, even though Marcus is now with the ones who are trying to kill him. 

Robert doesn't say anything, he just lets the facts answer to that pathetic excuse, but Marcus doesn't seem to want to let go. 

«When they attacked us it was chaos — I didn't know where to go, no one knew where to go, what to do to escape the inevitable. You and Seph were nowhere to be found and I- I- What else could I have done?!»

Marcus' confused and agitated words are suddenly interrupted by the pack leader stepping closer to Robert, putting a hand on Marcus' shoulder with an amused smile cracking his sharp face. 

«What our little Marcus is trying so passionately to explain is that, no, he was not the one who helped us to get in the Palace, but when it became clear that every single one of you traitors would have died, he decided to switch sides to save his ass.»

Robert feels sick, a kind of nausea he hasn't felt in ages. Because he could have dealt with the betrayal eventually, but that kind of cowardice is something he will never forgive. 

«You're asking me what you should have done?» he yells, suddenly feeling all his strengths back, as if every wound had just healed itself and now Robert was sure he could have won against even twice the enemies. «You should have died, Marcus. Like the others died in the Palace, as I will die soon. You should have died and saved what little pride was left in you! Who fucking cares you were not the one who betrayed us? You're on their side now, you're one of them, so you remain a traitor and will have our deaths on your conscience anyway.»

Robert sees Marcus getting pale and opening his eyes wide as if he's just realized the real meaning of the choice he made. He takes a few steps back, stuttering some random words until his clumsy moves are stopped by a firm hold of the leader on his arm. 

«This is not the moment to go crazy, my dear puppy. I want you to answer a question first: in your opinion, considering how much a noble soul our Robert here is, is there really a chance he told us the truth and let the vampire run away alone?»

Robert feels a new kind of terror rinsing: he sees Marcus hesitate, moving his look between him and the leader of the pack without knowing what to do. Marcus knows him well, everyone in the guard corps knows each other well by now, maybe even too well. 

«No,» Marcus murmurs, lowering his head. «He didn't leave him alone. Joseph is here.»

The laugh coming out of the leader's mouth is the most ungraceful noise Robert has ever heard and at that moment, defeated, he doesn't bother to hide the desperate look in his eyes and the devastated face he's making. He should have known that, he should have thought about a way for Seph to get off the train without him, in case he couldn't stop the extremists from their hunt. What the hell did he think he could do, anyway? Hasn't he learned yet that in a hunt if you stop running you're dead? Robert was stupid, too sentimental. And now everything will have been for nothing. 

«Thank you, lil pup. Last thing: you see, I know people like Robert and I know people like you. And Robert is the kind of puppy who doesn't give up — we all know he made a name for himself as a survivor, am I right? You don't do a thing like that standing still and playing fair. So he probably hid the little vampire here somewhere, maybe they even mated before that, like revolting animals, so that the vampire would have the werewolf's scent on itself and that's why we can't smell it. But I know some _ interesting _methods of persuasion we could try that could help you too. Because you see, I don't trust you, I really don't. Understand: you just betrayed your friends to save your own ass, what will stop you from doing the same with us now that you found your beloved Robert?»

If possible, those words, the new perspective of a possible death make Marcus' face even paler as he stutters again something confused words. 

«Ssh, ssh, it's alright, everything is fine. I have a solution and it's quite simple. You just have to do what I say.»

With no further ado, the leader unbuttons the double-breasted jacket he's wearing and pull out a couple of switchblades. When he makes the blade spring Robert (and some of the other werewolves with him) shivers: he recognized the silver the blade is made of and suddenly he knows exactly what is about to happen. That's what happens at every hunt, what filled his skin with so many scars. They are going to torture him with one of the few things that can immediately kill a werewolf. During the hunt he survived, the vampires were always the ones using that kind of torture: seeing werewolves ready to torture other werewolves with those barbaric things makes Robert sick. 

The leader hands one of the switchblades to Marcus and then turns to Robert.

«I will ask you just once and you will have only one chance to answer,» he orders looking at Robert with crazy eyes. «Where did you hide the vampire?»

Seph has always loved silence. When he reads, it allows him to lose himself deeply in the pages of the books in his hands; when he spends time in the garden surrounding his Palace it allows him to enjoy the nature around him, the peaceful passing of time, the authentic company of the people he is with. Silence has always been his friend, it has always allowed him to find himself in the world, even at night, even in the dark. 

For the first time now, silence is betraying him. Not being able to hear anything, hidden in the small toilet between the wagons, takes his breath away and Seph hates not being allowed to do the smallest noise, he hates that he simply has to wait. He feels like he's going insane, left out of the main action like that, condemned to wait, maybe forever. Robert could never return and he wouldn't know what happened. Seph doesn't want to lose him, he doesn't want to go back home without him, he doesn't want to learn how to live without the werewolf's constant and reassuring presence behind him, without those eyes he has watched become softer and softer during those months with him, without the way Robert smiles, in that rare and yet still carefree manner, despite all the bad things that happened in his life.

A sudden yell tears Seph away from that feeling of panic, putting him in a state of pure terror. Even if it's far away from him, the vampire immediately recognizes Robert's voice and the pain in it. There's a second yell and then another one. Seph puts his hands on his mouth trying to choke his scared sobs and starts to tremble, understanding that whoever found them on this train is hurting Robert now in order to catch him. That pain, those yells are his fault. 

The more the pained cries increase, the more Seph panics and trembles and shuts his eyes and wishes that the hands on his ears were strong enough to shut down that terrible noise. But Robert's voice gets higher, he howls with all the air in his lungs, throwing out all the pain he's suffering as if that could give him some kind of relief from the tortures. Seph cries. There are no tears but the vampire's body is shaken by mute whimpers and his head falls on his chest, defeated, as his body crumples on his knees with a thud. He can't get out, he knows he must not do that. Seph promised Robert, he promised he would have done as the werewolf said, that he would stay safe until things got better. But he can't, he can't stand still, he can't keep hearing those cries and do nothing — he's losing his mind hidden in that narrow space. 

_ «Do you hear him, vampire? Do you hear your precious cocksucker dying? Are you sure you can afford to lose him? If I were you, I would come out!» _

In a second the terror becomes anger and the anger becomes rage. Suddenly Seph doesn't care about dying, nor about the greater cause they are pursuing or what his survival would mean for both reigns. The only thing he wants to do is make the ones who are hurting Robert like that pay for their actions. 

Seph doesn't think about the promise he made anymore: unwilling to listen to any reason, in a matter of seconds he's back in the wagon where he left Robert. Before him is an unbearable sight. Robert is on his knees over a pool of his own blood, his head held high by one of the other werewolves who's pulling Robert's long dark-brown hair. Robert's face is almost as pale as Seph's and his bare chest is torn apart by so many cuts that Seph can't keep count. Each of them bleeds and is reddened strangely, like they were burning from the inside, and a couple of them seem deep enough to make Robert die of blood loss. 

«Ah! Finally, the star graced us with its presence!»

Seph's focus is diverted to the werewolf speaking, a man a bit taller than Robert, with dark eyes and short brown hair, a sick smile on his sharp face marked with a single big scar disfiguring his cheek, cutting his cheekbone from side to side.

«Let him go!» Seph orders, with a kind of authority he has never had, showing his fangs with the most scaring look he's capable of. 

The werewolf stares at him for a few seconds, then his smile widens and an amused laugh fills the air.

«And what exactly made you think you can give orders in a situation like this?» he asks, making a couple of steps forward as if he is already tasting the moment he will finally catch his prey. 

«If you let him go I'll come with you. That's what you want, right?»

The smile remains on the leader's face and Seph feels his own confidence vanish — what else does he have to offer to save Robert other than his own life? 

«You see, that's exactly the point: now that you are here, what stops us from killing you first and then your dog? You cannot win, little vampire, not this time.»

Seph grits his teeth until it hurts. The werewolf is right. He's right and Seph was stupid, so stupid to believe he could handle that situation! Now he doesn't have a way out of it.

«Joseph...» he hears Robert cry and his gaze is immediately on him. «I told you… to do... a-as I-I said… you- you pro-mised...»

Tears try to break Seph again because of the way Robert is scolding him, because of the regret and the desperation he can hear in the werewolf's words. Seph doesn't care about dying, he doesn't care about suffering, but he can't stand the sight of what they did to Robert, the sight of how the werewolf seems defeated by the pain. Seph feels minuscule, worthless, incapable of protecting the one who, he realizes that now, has become the most important person in his life. 

«Joseph… it's okay… everything… is going… to be… fine…»

The vampire keeps staring at him, the crying now shaking his body. Robert is about to die and yet, despite everything, the only thing he wants to do is reassure Seph, tell him not to be afraid as the leader of the extremists comes closer to him, one step at a time, slowly and ready to win this hunt. All Seph can do is shout desperately in his mind that this is just a nightmare, a terrible nightmare he's about to wake up from and then everything will be fine, Robert will be at his side as always, both in the Ambassador Palace, safe and sound. 

Then something happens. Seph is not sure he understood everything he should right away and yet his body acts on its own, trusting Robert completely. Because the werewolf suddenly hardened his face, looking at him with eyes opened wide and then he averted his gaze looking in a specific direction. And Seph doesn't know how, but, not being entirely conscious of it, he understood what to do. As if this was something they always do, as if they were partners escaped from a thousand of hunts together. 

The leader of the pack is an arm away from the vampire when Seph, with a sudden movement (something common for a vampire), springs on his left and, fearless like only blind faith can make you, he throws himself against the big window of the wagon, shattering the glass under his vampire strength and flying out of the train, carried away by its speed and the gravitational force.

At the same time, Robert — taking advantage of the low guard of the werewolf who was still holding him by his hair, and was certain by now that they had won — gathers all the strength he has left and, almost at the same moment as Seph, jumps out of the window next to the seat he occupied before, flying out of the wagon with Seph.

Once they are outside, in the few seconds he has left, Robert is able to catch Seph in his arms, holding him in the safest of his grips before losing consciousness because of the violent impact with the wet undergrowth. 


	2. Past and Future

«...bert! Robe…! Robert!!»

Robert's awakening isn't, again, the most pleasant one. Again, it's Seph's voice that greets him, and it sounds so worried this time that something instinctively tightens in Robert's guts. The pain is the second thing he feels: it's everywhere, so much that the werewolf can't even yell — a feeble cry leaves his lips and, before he can understand what Seph is saying, Robert has already lost consciousness again. 

...

The second time he wakes up is more violent than the first one. Robert clearly feels as if his body was on fire: the skin, the muscles, the blood running through his veins, everything is burning from the inside ferociously as it never was before, tearing agonizing screams from his throat. 

«I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,» Robert hears the vampire say, but he doesn't know what Seph is sorry for, he doesn't know what is happening, he can't understand anything. When he regains some kind of control over his body Robert curls up on his side and vomits blood.

…

_ ... _

_ Help me, please. I don't want to die.  
_ _§Mother, Judith. Help...  
_ _...Seph. Joseph. Please, Joseph…  
_ _Jo- seph. _

...

Robert lost count of how many times he woke up just to pass out a few moments later because of his wounds. When he can finally stay awake for more than ten seconds he breathes out a small sigh of relief. He doesn't feel any better, his whole body burns and hurts badly, he feels light-headed and can't concentrate, but just being able to think and to stay conscious and be aware of what surrounds him is a big step forward. 

«You're awake...» 

Seph's voice surprises him — it's not loud anymore, neither worried, nor scared for what is happening: now it just seems resigned and a little bit relieved by seeing Robert back with him. The werewolf tries to smile to reassure him but doesn't actually know what kind of face he's making and Seph's look on him doesn't change anyway as he stares at Robert with eyes barely opened, looking tired. 

«What happened?» Robert whispers — he can't move without feeling worse, even talking louder hurts. 

«After we jumped out of the train, you mean?» There is no irony in Seph's voice, he's not accusing him — he just wants to know from where to start explaining things. When Robert nods, Seph takes a deep breath as if he was getting ready for a long talk. «It wasn't the most fortunate landing. I… am pretty much fine, but you...» He shakes his head as if it was his fault and Robert would like to caress Seph's face with his hands, to tell him that everything is alright, that there's a reason if he is the bodyguard, that hurting himself while protecting the vampire is his job. But even moving his fingers is difficult and the frustration for not being able to do the simplest things irritates Robert.

«Did you bring us in this cave?» he asks instead, trying to change the subject. 

Seph nods, looking around as if that was the first time he actually got to see the place they are in. When they landed in the undergrowth, wounded and with no place to hide, Seph just thought about finding the first place big enough to hide and treat Robert's wounds without worrying too much about the extremists. That cave is not far away from where they fell and so it wasn't too difficult to bring Robert to safety among its wet, dark walls. 

«This will be a tremendous story to tell to your father,» Robert points out, but the laugh he busted in turns in a deep cough that shakes his weakened body as if it was a dry leaf ready to part from the branch and fly away. Seph doesn't know what to do to calm him down and he just helps the werewolf sit up so that he can breathe more easily, making the cough stop. 

«We can't- we can't stay here for much longer- the- extremist are still… h-hunting us… We need to cross… the border as soon… as possible,» the werewolf keeps saying in between coughs.

Robert tries desperately to put any weight on his grasp on the vampire to make his body stand up, but every muscle trembles with spasms, under too much effort. When Seph forces him to lay down again, Robert can't do anything but give in, his head now spinning and nausea threatening to make him vomit blood again. He has never been so useless before. 

«We won't do anything until you recover a bit.» Seph's voice is serious as Robert has never heard it before. He knows that decision is a dangerous one, that wasting time like that could cost them, but he can't do anything but agree with those words — agonizing as it is, his body wouldn't be able to make a single step even if the werewolf put everything he has in it, not even if it was a matter of life and death. 

«Does it still hurt badly?» Seph asks, his voice again low and feeble, completely different from the one he just used.

«Like hell,» Robert answers him with a broken voice — what good would it make to lie to Seph, telling him he's fine? In this kind of situation, lying about one's condition can lead to death.

«I'm sorry,» he hears the vampire say and frowning he turns his eyes back on him, not understanding what Seph is talking about. Jumping out of the train was Robert's idea, he knew it could have ended badly, especially for him. Maybe he's talking about his wounds? About the fact that those werewolves tortured him to lure the vampire out of his hiding place? 

«I couldn't find another way and even if I was cautious I must have hurt you anyway… You screamed so loud...»

Hurting him? Seph? Robert gets even more confused and tries to shift on his side to have a better look of the vampire. Seph keeps his head down, almost hidden so that the werewolf doesn't meet his eyes and sees the pain and the guilt in them. 

«_ Joseph _, what are you talking about?»

It doesn't matter how many times Robert calls the vampire by his full name, he will always be sure it will have a response from him. Seph jerks, his face still showing a painful expression. 

«The silver was poisoning your blood — it still is…» he murmurs — if he could cry now his face would be covered in tears. «I didn't- I didn't know how to- You were dying and I… bit you, I tried to suck out the poisoned blood. I'm sorry, I hurt you so much, you screamed so badly I stopped-»

Seph can't talk anymore and hides his face in his hands, shaken by sobs like a helpless child. Robert stares at him, for a couple of seconds he's not able to fully comprehend what those words mean. Struggling with his weakness, he pulls himself up enough so that he can see his own chest: the wounds still reddened by the silver poisoning are now surrounded by several smaller bite marks, darker, almost healed in comparison. That sight makes Robert finally realize what the vampire did. 

«What the fuck have you done, are you fucking insane?» he shouts, even if it hurts.

«I'm sorry!» Seph shouts back, «I told you I am sorry, I didn't know what to do, you were dying!»

«You should have let me die then! Fuck, you know that werewolf blood is venomous for you! What if you drank some of it by mistake? Do you realize the risk you t-»

In yelling that way, Robert manages to sit up; from that close position he can see now some dark veining running under the vampire pale skin from his lips through his neck — Robert doesn't know how he missed them before, but now that's all he can see, all that matters. 

«It happened- You- you drank it-» Robert chokes on his own voice, the head spinning so violently that he has to lean on the wet, sharp-edged wall behind him to find some kind of stability. No, this can't be happening, not like this — he promised he would do everything in his power to keep Seph safe, that nothing would have happened to him… The thought of losing him hurts Robert more than the poison running through his veins, wrecking him. 

«It's okay, Robert, it's fine,» Seph runs to reassure him, now by his side as he tries to make the werewolf lie down again. «It was a mistake, I just drank a few drops: I won't die, calm down.»

But Robert can't calm down and even when he lies down he can't avert his gaze from the dark veining soiling Seph's skin. His own blood is poisoning Seph and he is fighting against it just like Robert is doing with the silver corroding his body. Robert is torturing the vampire as the extremists tortured him — that thought kills him. 

«Does it… hurt…?» he barely manages to ask — suddenly he feels like his consciousness is slipping away from his fingers, but he doesn't want to sleep again.

«Not really,» Seph reassures him. He's not lying: he's so tense and worried about Robert and their safety that he doesn't feel anything else.

«We have to… get back… home...» Robert murmurs weakly and Seph is just able to turn his gaze on him again before the werewolf passes out. 

Seph notices it by chance. Not more than half an hour has passed since Robert fell asleep and, judging by the altitude of the Moon in the night sky, they entered the darkest hours. That means that the forest is as silent as possible now that even the wind has stopped blowing. Surrounded by the darkness, Seph can imagine being in his room, among his books, his researches, the theories he's trying to prove with the Scientific Guild. He can imagine being safe, next to Robert who dozes on his chair (as always at that time of night) ready, Seph is sure of that, to get up and fight at the first danger. 

This time it's Seph the one who jerks up. Suddenly Robert's breathing became weak and irregular as if the werewolf couldn't catch his breath and when Seph touches his face trying to do something about that, he realizes Robert is burning. 

«Robert! Robert!» the vampire calls him, hoping to wake him up, praying that Robert opens his eyes and tells him what to do about that sudden fever: Seph studied so many books about vampires and yet knows so few things about remedies to help werewolves getting better… He's ashamed of his ignorance: if only he knew something more, now he would be helpful. 

«Robert, please, wake up, I don't know what to do, you're burning,» Seph keeps yelling — if someone is still searching for them nearby shouting would be dangerous, and yet at that moment, the vampire can't think about anything but his bodyguard. 

«Se-e-ph...» Robert cries, barely able to keep his tired, glassy eyes opened. «What… is… go-ing… on…?»

Robert is narrowly aware of his own body: he feels light as a sheet of paper carried away by a blow of wind, with no strength, no need to change its course. He would like to give in to that stream and stop thinking, but at the same time, he knows he can't leave the vampire keened beside him alone.

«Your fever spiked, I think it's because of the silver still poisoning you...»

When Seph tries to move away the hand he put on Robert's forehead to feel his body heat, the werewolf leans towards it so that the contact doesn't break. The vampire looks at him for some moments, surprised: that's not the first time he and Robert touched each other of course — being his bodyguard, Robert found himself in situations where he needed to drag him away from danger more than once — but this is different. Robert seems so fragile right now, so needy of protection that Seph feels his heart tighten and can't do anything but put his hand again on the werewolf's face. 

«You are… c-cold… Stay with… me...»

Seph sighs, shaking because Robert's voice is so weak now. Then, trying not to break the contact, he takes off his shirt now ripped off in several spots and pulls Robert closer, letting him lie on his cold chest. When a weak sight leaves his livid lips Seph holds him tight caressing his wet hair with a hand. 

«Sometimes… when I absently look at you, you remind me of Judith...» he hears the werewolf say and for a moment his curiosity gets the better of his worries.

«Who's Judith?»

A chill shakes Robert's body. Seph doesn't say anything more, he holds him even tighter and waits — he knows Robert is still awake but won't insist on the matter if the werewolf doesn't want to answer his question.

«She was... my sister… She died… several years ago… You have… her light eyes and… her naive way to look at things...»

Robert lets out another sigh and closes his eyes. Seph wants to say something, explain how sorry he is, how fortunate Judith was to have a brother like Robert, but nothing comes out of his mouth and he remains silent, mourning a person he never knew, feeling a strange kind of sadness rising in his chest.

«You know, I grew up in these woods. My father died when I was little and, after that, living in the city became difficult… We had… a little house in the woods. My mother used to leave us there every morning to go to the city and earn something to live another day but… My father had strange ideas when he was still alive, maybe even more progressive than the ones your father has, and when he died...» 

Robert shakes his head and shifts to find a colder spot to rest over on Seph's chest. In that strange numbness, he isn't aware of the way he's holding the vampire nor of the fact that he's actually talking about his past to someone who is not the Ambassador for the first time. 

«People didn't look kindly upon us and we barely had what we needed to survive the day. When the interracial wars became more violent and the hunts more frequent, the vampires found our home and burned it to the ground, killing my mother. After that Judith and I lived in caves like this one for years before…»

There's a new jolt, so powerful that this time Seph trembles with Robert, already imagining what the werewolf is about to say. Robert's voice is raspy and feeble, it gets more tired with every word the werewolf says and forces him to stop and take a new breath every few seconds. Seph knows he should stop him because, aside from the agony of those memories, it would be better if Robert rested. Yet, a part of him wants to keep hearing that story because if Robert keeps talking it means he's still with him, alive. 

«You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to…» Seph says anyway, but Robert can barely hear him, so lost in his thoughts that he almost lost contact with reality, not knowing what is real and what is just a painful memory anymore. 

«One night we became prey in a hunt, the worst hunt that has ever happened to me. There were vampires everywhere, more than I've ever seen. I knew Judith and I shouldn't split up, but I was desperate, I didn't know how to get us to safety and I hoped that having to choose who to follow, the vampires would choose me. But most of them followed Judith and it took a couple of seconds for me to realize I had done everything wrong.» 

Before his eyes, Robert can see that night repeating itself with terrifying precision until the moment they got Judith: he has never been able to forgive himself for the mistake he made and despite the adrenaline, despite the fear and the trauma, every single detail of that night remains in his memories, unforgettable. 

«I came back for her. I found the vampires' camping, the cage they put her in, pure silver ready to burn every inch of bare skin that dared to touch it. I couldn't free her, the vampires would have gotten the better of me before I could reach the cage, so I decided to wait for a better opening. But they had other plans. They started to torture her. They tightened her wrist to the silver bars, I could hear the sizzle of her skin slowly burning and Judith's laments, her prayers for the vampires to let her go that suddenly became screams when they started to cut her with silver blades. They didn't want anything from her: they weren't interrogating her, asking for information about other werewolves, our territories or the military forces. They just wanted to… hurt her.» 

Robert's voice is a pained cry now and Seph is grateful he's holding him because that way he cannot see his eyes — he wouldn't be able to bear his gaze knowing how much his race hurt him, seeing what cruelty they were capable of. When the werewolf speaks again Seph hopes the story is almost finished because he can't stand that suffering much longer. 

«The vampires laughed, they laughed and laughed and laughed to any of Judith's scream, until she passed out because of the pain and the poison. I couldn't just keep watching that. Despite them being so many, despite the silver weapons, I threw myself towards the open cage, trying to free her, to give her some relief from the pain. I held her in my arms. Her blood was so dark it seemed tar as it slipped out from the wounds, falling viscously all over my skin, soiling and burning it because of the silver poisoning it. If I close my eyes I can still smell the blood's scent, stinking with putrefaction and death. That's how the vampires got me too and kept enjoying torturing me as they had done with Judith. The scars you saw are mostly from that night.» 

Robert takes a deep breath, overwhelmed by the memories. They dance before his eyes like flames, projecting terrifying shadows everywhere and even if it's been years since that hunt Robert still doesn't know how not to be scared of that memory. 

«I… I can't remember much of what happened after that, just the pain of the silver getting under my skin, like now… The sound of the blade making new cuts, the feeling of the blood slipping out… And Judith's last words. "_ There has to be some other way to live, Rob. We can't keep going on like this. We can't… We can't… _". That's why I… That's the reason why… I don't know how I managed to survive after that night, maybe the vampires thought I was dead like my sister… But since then I've always… I've always tried to… find a way to… "There has to be some other way to live", maybe a way to live together, right? That's why I… That's why I became… Seph… I'm so sorry...» 

The vampire, terrified, realizes that something is wrong: with each passing second, Robert's words are becoming more rambling, as if the werewolf was struggling to follow his own thoughts and they were slipping away from his lips before he could finish to speak them. Robert is getting worse, dangerously worse and there's nothing Seph can do to help him, to save him.

«Robert stay awake. Please, please, _ please _, stay awake,» Seph begs him, lying him down and keeping his head up. «Keep talking to me, don't close your eyes. If you don't close your eyes you won't die, so please look at me, keep your eyes on me.»

But Robert is tired, so tired. He is drowning into the pain caused by the wounds, mixed up with the one caused by the memories, far deeper and hurting worse than any cut or poisoning. He raises a heavy hand and reaches Seph's face — he wants to tell him that he's wrong, that Judith died staring at him, her eyes widened into the void; he wants to say that there's nothing worse than watching those dead eyes, that if he is about to die, there, at that moment, then he has to close his eyes, to save Seph from watching the light in them fade out. But Robert is tired and doesn't have any more strength to talk. He is barely able to caress the vampire's face before his arm fails him falling to the ground with a thud.

«I will seek help. Did you hear me, Robert? I will go out and seek help and I will come back before dawn.»

Now Seph seems so confident, so _alive_, with that look in his eyes so certain of his own decision that it scares Robert — because for a moment Seph can make him really believe that's a good idea, that they still have a way to survive. But Seph has never been in those woods on his own before, he won't even know which direction to take to make it through without the extremists catching him. And even if he made it to the Capital in one piece, he won't be able to come back in time: Robert knows he's dying, that it's just a matter of moments.

The werewolf tries to take the vampire's wrist to tell him he doesn't want him to go, that it's okay, that he doesn't want to part from him, that he's scared of letting him go. Before he can find the strength to do so, though, Seph is the one who takes his hand, holding it between his two. That contact keeps Robert awake: he doesn't want to let Seph's eyes go. 

«I know what you're thinking,» the vampire says. «That I'm inexperienced, that the woods are dangerous, that they could find me and kill me. I know. But I can't stand to watch you die. I can't even think- about- about-» To Robert, Seph seems to be shaking as he speaks, as if he was on the verge of exploding because of what he's feeling. «I need to do something,_ I need to! _ And I know you would do the same if I were the one dying, so you have to trust me — I'll come back and I'll save you, Robert.»

«Al...ways...»

How could he not to trust him? Seph is looking at him with the most beautiful eyes he has ever had: at that moment Robert could believe anything those eyes would say, any promise that vampire would make. And it's in that moment, while Robert is trying to burn those eyes into his memory, that he notices that something changed, too quickly for his feeble consciousness to see. It's with his touch that he first to realizes what is happening — a kiss. Light, a matter of seconds: Seph touches Robert's lips with his own and the werewolf stops existing in those seconds, he feels annihilated in that contact and thinks that, yes, he will gladly die if death is like that kiss. 

Seph parts from him sooner than he wants to. He looks at Robert, searching for something, the smallest reaction to his sudden gesture and he thinks he sees the ghost of a smile on the lips he's just let go. Seph would lie if he said he doesn't know why he did it: he knows full well, maybe he always knew, since the moment Robert started working as his bodyguard, since the first time they spoke, since the first time he saw him smile or sleep peacefully. Seph has always known what he feels for Robert and that kiss is an oath on his lips: Seph won't lose the most important person in his life. 

☽☽☽

_ «I'll come back and I'll save you, Robert.»  
_ _«There has to be some other way to live.»  
_ _«Please look at me, keep your eyes on me.»  
_ _«We can't keep going on like this. We can't…»  
_ _«Robert stay awake. Please, please, please, stay awake.»_

Robert jolts awake. His breathing is heavy, so fastened that he can barely keep up as he tries to sit up to look around and see where he is. Are they still in danger? Did the extremists find them? Do they have to run? His body is still too heavy for him to move around and the pain comes back again making the werewolf cry out when he tries to lean on his elbows to sit straight. 

«Easy, easy, Robert. Lie down, everything is alright.»

Ambassador Johnsen's voice makes Robert jerk in surprise, so carelessly about his conditions that his sight fades out because of the sudden pain to his abdomen.

«Please, Robert. You will re-open the deepest cuts,» he hears the vampire say, as two strong arms push his body down on the bed he was apparently sleeping in.

«Where are we? What happened? Where is Seph?!» Robert asks with a voice louder and more concerned than what the situation seems to justify. Once again he remembers just a few things about what happened after he and Seph were attacked on the train and just the idea of Seph not being next to him for some reason makes him panic. 

«Seph left a couple of moments ago — he stayed by your side since we brought you here, I think he will be very disappointed to find out you woke up in the few moments he was away.»

The Ambassador talks with a carelessness Robert cannot understand: how can he joke around in a moment like this? His son almost died, his Mixed Guard Corps was slaughtered and all the things they fought for in the last year is at stake after an attack like that... 

Robert realizes he must have made a face as he looked at the Ambassador because now the vampire's eyes are suddenly serious and he's looking back at him with the same gaze he used to have during the most difficult reunions they attended together. 

«I apologize,» he says, «I merely wanted to lighten the mood a bit, given the seriousness of the situation — you know me, Robert, I don't like to weight down things with useless worries. But you're right to be concerned about what happened.»

Robert simply nods: he didn't want to address any comment to him, he didn't expect his gaze to be so easy to read, but he's not entirely sorry for it. Undermining what happened won't do any good to anyone. 

«You slept for eleven days,» the Ambassador talks again, starting to walk in the large room and not allowing Robert's surprised look to stop him this time. «When Seph got here, wounded and scared, I assumed the worst. He explained to me what had happened and we started the search for you immediately — you were dying when we found you and brought you here.»

Only then Robert takes some time to properly look around. Except for the bed he's in, the room has several pieces of furniture, simple but classy, with a style Robert recognizes immediately: it belongs to the personal residence of the Ambassador and his family. The intimacy of that place helps him to relax a bit more, to better handle the feelings of incompetence and shame about being overpowered by the extremists and remaining unconscious for almost two weeks.

«And the others…?»

His voice is low, somehow uncertain: Robert is not sure if he wants to know the answer but at the same time he knows he can't just turn the other side and pretend someone didn't die.

«Three days after we found you, Lucas came back to the Headquarters — he lost an arm, but he's recovering. Then two days ago, a miracle: Sylvie and Rebecca showed up here at the Palace without any severe injuries — they explained that, in the days after the attack at the werewolf Ambassador's residence, some werewolves, thanks to Sylvie mediation, helped them recover and stay hidden: the Capitol is still in chaos right now and that's why it took so long for them to come home.»

The way the Ambassador explained everything is something Robert could call a family trait: the capacity to see the good in any situation, no matter how desperate it is. The vampire could have told him that, out of sixteen members of the Mixed Guard Corps that left the Palace with Seph, eleven had died, four werewolves and seven vampires (assuming that Marcus was still alive); instead, he talked about the ones who were still alive, the ones who came back. Robert nods, laying his head on the pillow and letting go of a sigh — he doesn't know how to feel about the comrades he lost: he hasn't fully accepted everything that happened yet and maybe a part of him still expect to see them around at the next shift. 

«Joseph told you about Marcus?» he asks — that's another thing he hasn't accepted yet. Marcus was the youngest among them, always smiling, friendly with everyone, maybe a bit too shy for the job he chose to do. But Robert would have never imagined a betrayal like that.

The Ambassador nods, saying nothing. There's remorse in his eyes when he looks at the werewolf as if it was his own fault that one of his men sided with the enemy. Robert returns the gaze, not averting his eyes: he wants to make the vampire understand that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that he did nothing wrong and Marcus is the only one responsible for his own decision. 

«What do we do now?»

The smile the Ambassador gives to him when Robert asks that question surprises the werewolf even if he should be used to that kind of reactions by now. He keeps looking at him instead, waiting for the vampire's answer and it feels like a year ago, when they met for the first time. Robert was nothing more than garbage and the Ambassador gave him a new direction. 

«We roll up our sleeves, Robert, and start where we left. From the dissent and the extremists. From what Seph told me, you… _ spoke _with them: what can you tell me abo-»

«Robert!»

Seph is at the doorstep, a book in his hand that almost slips away from his grip, and the most beautiful smile on his lips. Robert can't stop himself from smiling back, suddenly so happy to see the vampire and be sure that he's really okay, that they actually made it, that they both came back home alive. For some moments everything around them disappears and the werewolf forgets everything that is not them, even the Ambassador still by his side until the vampire clears his throat with a fake cough.

«I'll leave the two of you alone — I'm sure you have plenty to talk about,» the Ambassador says and with a smile Robert can't fully understand he takes his leave, going out with a slow but strong pace.

Once they are alone, Robert and Seph stay silent for several minutes. The vampire got closer and now he's sitting in the furthest corner of the bed the werewolf slept in for so long. He doesn't know what to say and plays with the book in his hands — an old volume about astronomy.

«I'm sorry,» Robert says, made nervous by the sudden silence, «I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you like I should have done and I'm sorry I became a burden to you, putting you in an even bigger danger.»

Robert didn't forget what happened on the train: it's the only thing he remembers terribly well, the way Seph was close to being caught by the enemies. Too close. 

«What are you talking about?» Seph stops him, turning toward him and holding the book in his hands vehemently, angered by the werewolf words. «If it wasn't for you, I would have died in the Ambassador's residence that night! You helped me escape, protected me, you were hurt and tortured and all because I could come back home safe and sound. I owe you my life, more than once, Robert.»

Seph feels something tightening his throat. He wants to scream and at the same time, he feels all the energies slipping away from him. And a part of him, the smallest, insignificant, hopeful part of him wonders how much of what happened that night Robert remembers. 

«I waited… for so long...» he murmurs, «I thought that… you would never... wake up again...» Seph doesn't want to cry: he's so sick of feeling desperate as he did in the last two weeks, but what he's feeling is so big, so deep that he doesn't have another way to bring it out.

«I'm sorry, Seph. But I'm okay now, everything is fi-»

Robert can't finish what he's saying because Seph clings to his chest, hiding his face against the werewolf skin, still a bit warmer than usual. He is delicate as not to hurt him and yet, at the same time, so desperate that it takes Robert's breath away. The werewolf caresses his hair gently and wants to apologise again for making him so worried, but the sudden contact with Seph's cold skin brings back a strange sensation to Robert's memory: the werewolf is certain he has been held by Seph in the exact way he's holding the vampire now. 

In the cave. When he thought he was dying. When Seph kissed him.

Remembering Seph's thin lips on his own makes Robert feel somehow odd. He can't recall everything that happened in the cave, the reasons why they kissed, what was going on before and after they did it, but he can remember the cold and the softness of that flesh, the way Seph trembled in those seconds, the sensation of being suddenly complete. 

«Seph,» he whispers, with a voice he has never used before: there's some kind of longing in it that is completely new, but Seph recognizes it immediately.

Their eyes meet and Seph knows Robert remembered. He trembles, like when he kissed Robert, like the first time he understood his feelings for the werewolf. But Seph feels brave too, as he never felt before, not even when he ran through the Border Forest by himself for hours, hunted by the extremists, without knowing where to go. Now he has nothing to lose.

«You don't have to say anything. What I did...» Seph could take that kiss back, say that he was carried away by the moment, the fear, the need to not lose him. He could say he was confused, that he didn't know what he was doing. But it would be a stupid thing to do and it would make him a coward and Seph is neither of those things. 

«I won't deny what I did. Nor what I feel for you. I should have kissed you before, way before, and told you everything. If you feel like I took advantage of you, I apologize, but the truth is that I- I- can't afford to lose you, can you understand that? My life depends on it. And not because you're my bodyguard, but because I can feel, no, I'm sure of it, that without you by my side nothing would matter anymore. And I'm not ashamed of that, it's not a weakness, nor a flaw: it is what it is. I'm in love with you, I can't help it, I can't choose not to love you, I can't stop nor forget. It's okay, even if you don't feel the same way. I just wanted you to know, to understand why I kissed you.»

Seph feels so light after that confession, as if every piece had finally found its right place and a beautiful picture had appeared before him. It's not like he had imagined it, but it's amazing anyway, and it is his, to keep safe and protect with all its imperfections. 

The vampire stands up, looks away from Robert's eyes and moves to get out of the room, feeling a bit dizzy because of his own strength, but suddenly the werewolf takes him by his wrist.

«Have they ever told you that you go really fast?» Robert asks, tightening the hold on Seph's wrist when the vampire instinctively tries to free himself. 

«Fast?» he asks, without understanding.

«So fast that I have to catch my breath.»

And before Seph can ask him again what he is talking about, Robert pulls him until they are so close he can easily kiss him and actually take a breath for the first time since that conversation started. 

And, _ oh _ , the kiss in even more beautiful than he remembered, more intense, more vivid. Maybe it's because now Robert is _ not dying _ while he tastes Seph's lips and his heart is beating that fast only because of what he is feeling and not because of the hunt, the dangers and the risk of being killed. Maybe it's because this time it doesn't last just a few seconds, but the moans getting out of Seph's mouth invites Robert to deepen that contact, biting his lower lip, touching his tongue, taking in the vampire's breath and taste, making everything that Seph is in that moment his own until the vampire almost faints because of the intense pleasure Robert is making him feel.

The werewolf lets him go just because of that, just because now it's the vampire the one not being able to keep his pace and Robert the one running too fast. 

«You could just… say… that… you like me… back... you know?» Seph complains trying to catch his breath. Robert laughs, even if it hurts.

«How melodramatic of you — you know you don't have to_ actually breathe _, right?» Robert teases him. The truth is that he's out of breath too because of that kiss, because of the overwhelming happiness he's feeling. Then he looks at him, the vampire's hair a bit messy, the pale face that somehow has a different shade of color, as if that was the peculiar way the vampires have to blush. And he is astonishing. 

«I didn't know,» Robert admits, reaching Seph's face with a hand, suddenly sad for having experienced too much joy. «I didn't know I could still love like this. I didn't know I could be in love with you.»

Seph looks at him, widening his eyes as if he had just realized that his feeling is mutual. Then he smiles, leaning into Robert's lingering touch with the saddest, sweetest face he has ever had and waits for Robert to talk again. He could wait for all eternity with no regrets.

«Thank you for kissing me when I was dying.»

«Thank you for not being dead.» 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first original fic and I really enjoyed writing it! So thank you, tentacledicks, because the way you combined those two beautiful prompts made this fic possible! At first, I was a bit scared of messing things up, but now I'm really proud of my new two sons! And I hope you liked them and their story too, my dear recipient~
> 
> A big big thank you to antheiaa who beta-read the fic and help me get through this new experience!! And to @nihilkolja who made this splendid art for them! https://twitter.com/nihilkolja/status/1152904931541753856?s=19


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